Chapter 5: Mana and Aura
Royal Library
The air smelled of parchment, ink, and candle wax, heavy with the weight of centuries.
Rows upon rows of tomes towered above him, some so old their bindings seemed ready to crumble at the slightest touch. Court scholars whispered in corners, scribes carried bundles of scrolls, and knights stood guard to prevent "curious fools" from wandering into restricted sections.
Naturally, Lucian walked straight toward the restricted sections.
In my last life, the library was my battlefield, he thought. Arguments, documents, loopholes — all weapons of ink. Here… these shelves hide the weapons of destiny.
He passed through the section labeled Foundations of the Path. There, he found the text he needed:
"The Doctrine of the Knightly Star"
"The Mage's Circle and the Weaving of Mana"
He plucked both volumes from the shelves and carried them to a secluded alcove.
He opened the knight's tome first.
"To walk the path of the knight, one must temper body and spirit. In the dantian and the inner sea beneath the navel the aspirant must kindle a spark of aura, condense it into a star, and allow it to shine. From this star flows strength, endurance, and the will to overcome. Yet once the star is born, the path is set: the soul cannot host both a star and a circle."
Lucian rubbed his chin. "A star in the belly, a circle around the heart… and the soul only has room for one blueprint. A strict monopoly."
He flipped to the mage's tome.
"The art of magic begins with the circle. To draw upon the weave of the world, a mage must etch a mana circle within the soul's seat, closest to the heart. This circle is a foundation. Once drawn, no knight's star may be born, for the soul cannot bear two cores."
Lucian leaned back, staring at the two tomes. His lips curved in a thin smile.
"So… every child is told: choose. Sword or staff. Steel or spell. Body or mind. No one can walk both roads."
He tapped the books thoughtfully.
"But what if the soul wasn't… normal?"
The faint echo of his other self stirred inside him the ghost of the man from Earth. A man of politics, cunning, and stubborn will. Their merger wasn't perfect; sometimes he felt the clash of their thoughts, like two voices arguing in the same room. Yet that tension gave him clarity, drive, and most importantly resilience.
In this world, a soul was a vessel. Knights and mages carved different engravings into it. But his soul wasn't single. It was layered, doubled, reinforced.
"If one soul cannot host both… then maybe two can share the burden."
The idea was insane. Blasphemous, even. No one in Solinara's history had ever attempted both paths. Scholars claimed the soul would shatter under the strain, tearing its owner apart from within.
But Lucian was already unnatural. A hybrid being.
And what was a cheat worth, if not to defy the rules of the world?
He began with the knight's method. Sitting cross-legged in the quiet alcove, he placed a hand over his abdomen, drawing slow breaths.
Dantian… inner sea… kindle a spark.
He recalled yesterday's agony in the gardens, when he had finally touched aura. The pressure, the burning, the fleeting flicker of light. That flicker… that was the beginning of a star.
"Again," he whispered.
He gathered breath, grit, and willpower. His body trembled as warmth swirled in his core. Pain lanced through his muscles, sweat dampened his brow. He clenched his teeth.
The flicker appeared again — faint, fragile, but real.
Yes. Hold it. Feed it. Don't let go.
It pulsed once… twice… then guttered out.
Lucian slammed a fist against the floor, panting. "Damn it."
He opened the mage's tome next, forcing his mind away from pain.
"To form the circle, one must breathe mana into the soul near the heart. Imagine a ring, complete and unbroken. Failure to complete the ring leads to collapse of the attempt."
Lucian pressed a hand to his chest, closing his eyes. This time, he imagined a glowing line circling his heart. Each beat echoed like a drum, guiding him.
But unlike aura, mana was slippery — like smoke, like quicksilver. It refused to hold shape. His circle wobbled, broke apart, scattered like sand in the wind.
"Ah, hells!" He coughed, chest aching.
His head throbbed as if he had read legal codes for days without rest. He buried his face in his hands, groaning.
"In my last life, I only had to out-argue idiots. Now I'm fighting invisible smoke and imaginary stars. Wonderful."
For a moment, despair gnawed at him. Perhaps this world was right. Perhaps no one could walk both roads.
But then he heard the faint whisper of his other self the Earth-soul
We've fought worse. Remember sleepless nights? Remember betrayal in the senate? Remember clawing victory from mockery?
He lifted his head slowly. His lips twisted in a tired grin.
"You're right. I was a fool before… but now I'll be a fool who tries anyway."
He dug deeper into both tomes, scribbling notes, comparing diagrams.
Knights trained by breaking bones and rebuilding them with aura.
Mages trained by overloading their hearts until mana seeped naturally.
Both paths demand self-destruction, he thought grimly. One shatters the body, the other strains the soul. Perfect.
Yet he noticed contradictions scholars overlooked.
The knight's aura star was said to anchor in the dantian, radiating power upward.
The mage's mana circle was said to draw in power downward from the heart.
Opposite flows.
"If I can… balance them," he whispered, eyes gleaming, "maybe they'll stabilize each other instead of clashing."
It was reckless. Dangerous. Maybe impossible.
But it was his only way forward.
The candles burned low around him as night settled over the library. Pages of notes lay scattered across his desk, covered in cramped handwriting.
Sweat and ink stained his hands.
His body ached from aura strain. His chest throbbed from failed mana attempts.
Yet in his eyes burned stubborn fire.
The Fool Prince had decided.
He would walk both paths.
Even if the world itself said it couldn't be done.
-----
The Royal Library's silence was broken only by the scratch of Lucian's quill and the soft flicker of candlelight.
Outside, the moon climbed high over Solinara, bathing the palace grounds in pale silver.
But here, locked away in his alcove, time belonged only to him.
Lucian rubbed his temples, staring at the two opened tomes — Doctrine of the Knightly Star on his left, The Mage's Circle on his right. Notes sprawled before him in messy handwriting, half formulas, half muttered curses.
He muttered under his breath, voice hoarse, "No man can serve two masters. That's the rule. One path or the other. But lucky for me…"
He tapped his chest. "…I've got two masters crammed in here."
---
Lucian sat cross-legged once more, placing a palm over his lower abdomen. He closed his eyes, drawing long, steady breaths.
Dantian… inner sea… find the spark.
At first, nothing. His body resisted, heavy and sluggish. He cursed under his breath. "Lazy bastard. No wonder the old Lucian couldn't be bothered."
But slowly, with stubborn will, warmth flickered in his belly — a tiny ember, fragile and faint. It wavered like a firefly in the dark.
"Good… good," he whispered. "Now condense. Shape it. Don't—"
Pain exploded in his gut. His entire body convulsed, sweat streaming down his forehead. He bit his lip to keep from crying out.
Hold it… hold it…
The spark pulsed twice, then shattered. The warmth dispersed like shattered glass, leaving him cold and shaking.
Lucian slumped forward, coughing. "Dammit! Again!"
He tried. Failed. Tried again. Failed again. By the seventh attempt, blood tinged his lips. His body trembled violently.
"Dantian feels like I swallowed molten iron," he groaned. "Who the hell thought this was a good cultivation system?"
His hands shaking, he grabbed the mage's tome.
"Fine. If the body won't obey, maybe the soul will."
He pressed a hand over his heart. Mana flows like smoke. Picture the ring. Complete the circle. Let it breathe with your pulse.
At first, mana responded — wisps of blue glow dancing in his vision. He imagined them curving, forming a smooth arc. A half-circle shimmered faintly.
"Yes… yes, just a little further—"
The circle wobbled. Broke. The mana dissipated violently, stabbing pain into his chest.
Lucian gasped, clutching at his ribs. His breath came ragged.
This is insane. The knights break their bodies. The mages burn their hearts. And here I am, doing both at once. Brilliant plan, Lucian.
He tried again. Fail. Again. Fail. Each collapse left his chest tighter, his vision hazier. By midnight, he felt as though his ribs were wrapped in iron bands.
---
At the brink of collapse, he slumped back against the desk, vision swimming.
Maybe… maybe this really is impossible.
Then a whisper.
Get up.
Lucian froze. The voice wasn't his. It wasn't the old Lucian either. It was the other soul the man from Earth. Calm, firm, relentless.
You don't quit. Not now. We've clawed through worse. Two bankruptcies. Two betrayals. That scandal in the ministry? Compared to this, it was child's play.
Lucian chuckled weakly. "Even dead, you're lecturing me."
But the words steadied him. His breathing slowed. His thoughts sharpened. He sat upright again.
"Alright then. Let's gamble."
This time, he didn't attempt one path after the other. He attempted both simultaneously.
---
One hand pressed against his abdomen, the other over his heart.
Dantian is aura star. Heart is mana circle. Together.
At once, pain surged through him. His gut clenched, his chest burned. It was like being pulled in two directions — torn apart between star and circle.
His scream echoed through the library halls, but he didn't care. His fingernails dug into his skin, his body arched with strain.
It's too much. One soul can't
But he wasn't one soul.
The Earth soul stirred, bearing half the burden. Pain split in two, lessening. The aura flame stabilized. The mana smoke slowed. For the first time, both flows held steady.
Lucian's eyes flew open, glowing faintly gold and blue.
"Ha… ha… it's working."
---
In his dantian, the flicker of aura began to crystallize a faint mote of light, the seed of a star.
Around his heart, threads of mana curved into shape — not a full circle yet, but the arc held.
They pulsed together, foreign energies that should have destroyed one another. Yet with two souls anchoring them, they coexisted. Barely.
Lucian grit his teeth, sweat pouring down his face.
Balance them. Keep them steady. Don't let either collapse.
The pressure was unbearable. Every second stretched into eternity. But he endured, inch by inch, heartbeat by heartbeat.
Until at last, dawn's first light spilled through the stained-glass windows.
He collapsed to the floor, chest heaving, body trembling like a man who had survived a war.
The proto-star flickered in his dantian. The half-circle glowed faintly near his heart. Fragile, unstable but real.
Lucian lay sprawled on the cold marble, laughing weakly.
"I… did it. Against all damn reason, I actually did it."
His throat burned, his limbs screamed, but his grin was unstoppable.
"No knight. No mage. Not anymore." His voice was hoarse but triumphant. "I'll be… both. A dual path. A path no one else can walk."
And with that, exhaustion claimed him.
The Fool Prince slept on the library floor, surrounded by candle stubs and open tomes, the faint glow of forbidden power pulsing within him.